I was trying to snap this picture today around noon for a post on the new and temporary CJ blog, Nato Updates--to show how there is quite an uptick in police presence in the South Loop as NATO really begins to rock. And roll. I mean, we've never had any kind of visible police presence around the one federal building devoted to homeland security on the south side of Congress at Clark. Until today.
So I stepped under the portico, lifted my iPhone and bombs away! (Not a great choice of words, but you know what I mean.)
"No picture taking here, ma'am," the marshal said.
That's hard to believe, I thought; after all, he has "no expectation of privacy
." (A little legal talk; I spent several semesters teaching Media Law at Columbia College
--and I'm a lawyer, too.) The marshal was out in the open, he's a federal employee to whom I pay a salary and I felt I had every right, as a citizen, to snap his picture to illustrate for CJ readers what's going on in our 'hood.
"No problem," I said. I already had my picture and was getting ready to go down the stairs to the Blue Line
so I could meet my girlfriends in Wicker Park for lunch
"Ma'am," he continued coming at me. "You have to stop." I could see him eyeing my iPhone. "Stop, ma'am. You have to stop. Do you hear me. Stop!"
I told him I heard him but under NO circumstances was I going to stop.
"Ma'am, you have to stop. Do you understand me? Stop."
I proceeded down the stairs. For sure, he'll run after me, I figured. But I also figured he probably wasn't allowed to leave his post. But he probably has a radio and will summon help, who will
come after me in the Congress-LaSalle station
(how embarrassing) and I'll end up in the MCC, with Tony Rezko
for a roommate, and.... My thoughts were racing. And what will I tell everyone?
But, then, I started to think, had I not had girlfriends to meet and if I had some extra time, getting arrested by the feds during NATO might be quite an adventure. As I paced the station, waiting for the handcuffs and the clink, the train finally came and it was all over. I was free.
We are no longer accepting new comments on ChicagoJournal.com